Ethan sat on the old wooden bench at the back of the neighborhood park, the one hidden behind overgrown trees and far from the streetlights. It was 10:45 PM. The night air was cool against his bruised skin, but the ache in his jaw and ribs barely registered. His eyes kept flicking toward the direction of Mia’s house, heart hammering with a mix of hope and dread.
He had sent the risky text from a new number right after leaving her house earlier that day. No reply had come. He didn’t even know if she had seen it. But he couldn’t leave without trying. Not after everything that had exploded in front of her parents. The memory of her father’s disappointed face, her mother’s tears, and Jake’s fists still burned, but the look Mia had given him as he walked out the door kept him rooted here.
He
